


When you were dead

by KrystaFaith



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:38:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5552693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrystaFaith/pseuds/KrystaFaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one time he's late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be written in short chapters.

He had seen her, and there was blood—so much blood.

 

Even though her suit was virtually indestructible, he could see the rips—and the blood.

She was pronounced unconscious and rushed to the hospital. Hopefully, the doctors would have the discretion not to release the body. A few days later, she was confirmed dead.

 

Ladybug was dead. 

 

They don’t release her identity.  
They give no hint to where she would be buried.   
If a funeral happened, he wasn’t told, but they have created a memorial in her honor; maybe next year they’ll remember her death with candles.

Since there wasn’t much news coverage to be made directly about the dead heroine of Paris, the cameras turned on him, reporters flocking him, asking so many questions he could not answer; Chat seldom went out anymore. The akumas are strangely silent.

 

He wondered if being Chat Noir was worth anything without Ladybug.

 

 

It’s a month later, and Adrian has decided Chat is also dead.

He was never invited to his lady’s funeral, and in some ways he resents that. Of course, it would have been a dead give away to his lady’s identity, but she was dead, so… Perhaps her family needed closure. They probably hadn’t known, if she was as secretive with them as she was with him.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2

College has started again, and he finds his seat next to a blue haired girl with a scar on her neck; she keeps it covered, but he notices.

 

Marinette.

 

Though they’ve talked before, now she seems strangely somber, different from the vivacious, intuitive girl he had watched a few months before (and yes, when she wasn’t looking he had watched her…sparingly. Sure).

Now she seemed mature and serious; she didn’t laugh much anymore and rarely smiled.

 

She did smile at him though, once.

 

They talked, never during class, but a few comments here and there, after class, after school; his best friend and her best friend, himself and herself, they form a group.

 

“We’ll have to meet up later to finish this report…”  
(Not at his house is implied)

“You want to finish this at my house, its fine by me… Actually, I insist.”  
(She understands why and she’s okay with that)

“It’s a date then.”

 

They became close.  
She’s started to smile again, as weeks have gone by and once his awful jokes made her laugh.

 

 

That laugh was very important to him, though he wasn’t quite sure why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this all written out already but I am posting it slow for consistencies sake.
> 
> I have about five other stories that I'm currently writing, so I want to update regularly.
> 
>  
> 
> About this story...
> 
> When I started writing this, I took it from a prompt I wrote for myself: mistaken for dead.
> 
> In fact that's what I was going to title this, but it didn't fit.
> 
> I don't like my favorite characters dying, and since these two are so absolutely oblivious anyways, I felt it fit them perfectly.
> 
> This was supposed to be short, a one shot really, if my brief chapters and minimal words didn't tell you that already, but when a story wants to be written...


	3. Part 3

Alya starts to watch him very, very closely.

 

One day she gives him the “Best-Friend talk".

“I saw the way you’re looking at her, and as her best friend, it is my duty to inform you: If you ever….”

Marinette saves him, but the damage was done.

 

He treats her like some fragile piece of art for almost the rest of the day before she tells him to cut it out; she’s not a princess.

“”

Of course, he can’t resist calling her that (it fits), and now they have pet names.

Well, he has a pet name. 

For her.

Anyways.


	4. Part 4

That night he lies in bed thinking about the scar on her neck, and wonders what happened.   
He thinks about checking up on her; earlier Alya had made a big deal out of what she said was the true, delicate state Marinette was in, hinting that there was a lot more to that scar he had seen curving around her neck than the other girl was letting on{would let on}.

Alya had become a curiosity to him; her and Nino both actually.

He had mostly only seen her as the famous creator behind the LadyBlog.

He had seen her as Nino’s friend, maybe, and Marinette’s best friend.

But now she was his friend, sort of.

And, despite the death of Ladybug, the hero who'd brought them together, Nino and Alya were still as chummy as before; closer, actually.

He could never understand why.

And they were both really protective of Marinette (she hated it).

He had once tried to ask Nino why, but the other boy brushed him off:   
“Can’t tell till she does.” 

 

 

What was that supposed to mean?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really liked the idea of posting two chapters at once until I realized that Chap. 6 is super long.  
> So wait till Sunday for the big finale.

  
He suits up, and heads to her bakery; to the rooftop, since he had heard her say something about enjoying the view from there.

  
It’s a stupid idea, and he knows it, but he really wants to check up on her; make sure she’s okay, happy.

 

  
He hasn’t been Chat in a while.

 

  
Her light’s are out, he can see from the distance, but when he gets to her roof he can see her windows are open and there she is, smiling drowsily up at him.

  
_Like she was actually waiting for him_.

  
Instead if acting confused, he lets his delight at seeing her flavor his greeting: “Lovely evening, isn’t it Princess?”

  
In hindsight, he might have kept his identity longer if he’d thought of a different pet name.

  
“Long time since we’ve seen you around.”  
She responded.

  
“What brings you here?”

  
“The light from your windows and the scent of hot chocolate.”

  
“Chocolate is highly toxic to cats, I’m afraid. Pity, I can’t share any.”

  
“Now you’re just being selfish.”

  
“Nonsense! I’m looking out for you, kitty cat!”

 

In hindsight, maybe she should have thought up a few more nick-names as well.


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self: never post something without actually posting it.
> 
> You'll forget.
> 
> In other words, sorry I forget to post this.

3’ am and he’s not sure what to do with himself.

  
Tears are blurring his vision, and he’s not sure if it’s from the lack of sleep or the fading memories that keep him awake.

  
A tap at the window startles him; he tells himself it’s nothing, but then he looks up and there she is—drenched to the bone and weak.

He has no idea how she got there or why, but he tells her to stay because it’s raining (who is he kidding; he was relieved that she appeared).

  
He offers her a blanket, which she doesn’t accept, and they sit on the floor in silence, each trying not to look at the other.

 

  
“Umm.”

  
She begins (very intelligently)

 

  
“So?”

 

He tries to encourage.

 

  
“I wanted to talk to you.”

 

  
“So you show up at three in the morning.”

 

  
He’s not helping, and she looks away.

  
He looks at her, and wonders just how she managed to be climbing in his window at three without a ladder and, presumably, without assistance.

How did she know what window was his when all the lights were out?

  
What was so important that she decided at three in the morning she had to talk to him about?

  
What was so important that she was sitting here, just as sleep-deprived as he was, at three in the morning?

  
Oh; it was now closer to three thirty.

 

  
“You don’t know me.”

 

  
That’s what she wanted to say?

  
He wanted to disagree, but in some ways , he already knew that.

  
Where was she going with this?

 

  
“ Oh.”

 

What else could he say?

 

  
“What I mean is—what I want to say—I’m----I –Oh, why does this have to be so difficult?!”

 

She starts to talk to herself, a muttering stream of sounds that he can’t quite decipher, but as he looks at her he sees something he hadn’t before; something that really should have been obvious.

Her jacket lay wet and discarded on the floor, which gave him a clear view of slim, muscled arms, but mostly allowed him to see the bruises… and the scars.

  
It was healing, or she was, and he suddenly understood why and how she was here.

 

  
“You’re Ladybug?”

  
He hadn’t meant for it to sound like a question.

  
Perhaps she’d forgotten he was still there, as involved as she had been in her own conversation, and she stares at him a few seconds before answering.

 

  
“And… You’re Chat… Right?”

 

  
She looks hopeful, but scared.

  
Acting on its own, his body lurches forward, shaking, enveloping Marinette in a hug.

  
Not missing a beat, her own arms wrap around him, too tight, knocking the breath out of him.

  
Between the two of them, they have hundreds of questions, but as their hug loosens and he catches his breath, he finds himself with nothing left to say.

 

  
“We’re idiots aren’t we?”

 

She asks him, and her eyes are mirthful in a way he hasn’t seen in a long time.

  
He laughs.

  
She laughs.

  
Their laughter fills the room and it won’t stop.

  
Snippets of conversation happen, but mostly it’s just them and they’re happy.

  
Maybe they're crying, but it’s tears of joy, and whatever this revelation means for tomorrow, neither of them care because… the friend who each’d thought was dead is alive, and there’s no place they would rather be than with each other.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, and I apologize for my inexperience.  
> Actually I don't because I had a lot of fun writing this.  
> Despite the subject matter.  
> Or because of it.  
> I hope you like it.


End file.
